British Library
Harry became obsessed with looking in the mirror. Strictly speaking, it wasn't really looking in the mirror; he would stop and carefully examine his reflection whenever he passed by a place where it could be seen.
After Ron, Hermione couldn't take it anymore either. "Harry, be normal! It's just a glass of pumpkin juice! I don't believe you can find even a tiny bit of your reflection on the surface of a viscous liquid!"
“Oh, actually I was looking at the edge of the glass—cough, sorry, I’m not looking anymore.” He said this, still keeping his gaze fixed on the gleaming spoon for a full three seconds as he picked it up.
"..." Just because Queenie called him cute! Merlin's beard... Hermione wished Queenie could see him like this and see if she would still praise him like that!
Perhaps it really is true, Hermione thought blankly. The book said that love can lower one's IQ, just like Harry is now. Although he denies being in love, she and Ron both know that he is just being stubborn.
Ginny was a little worried. She nudged Hermione with her elbow. "What's wrong with Harry lately? He seems distracted. Is he worried about the hearing?" With only one day left until the hearing, everyone is encouraging Harry that he'll be fine. Could this be having the opposite effect?
Hermione took a breath. Yes, she was worried about the hearing. Her worries had made them secretly practice Apparition for several days. She was so skilled at brewing sixth-year potions that Professor Snape might actually give her an O for the first time. Ron was also getting better and better at impersonating Harry. If there were a Harry Potter impersonation contest, he might even win first place.
She just smiled and said, "I guessed so, but it's okay. We have to trust Professor Dumbledore. He can protect Harry."
“Hermione is right.” Mrs. Weasley gave Harry a reassuring smile. “How was the syrup pie? Ron said you liked it.”
"Mrs. Weasley, this is wonderful, even better than the food at Hogwarts."
Mrs. Weasley smiled broadly at the compliment, and Mr. Weasley promptly kissed her cheek. "Darling, everything you cook tastes delicious." This made her extremely happy.
It seems the secret to getting along is constant praise, Harry thought thoughtfully.
With a cell phone, Queenie and Harry started contacting each other more often, which caused Queenie to touch her phone more and more each day. She wasn't just neurotically checking her messages for Harry's latest news; she was more neurotically admiring her own settings—yes, she had set Harry's picture as her wallpaper, which she could see whenever she turned on the screen.
Emily caught Queenie's actions out of the corner of her eye again. She looked over and, sure enough, Queenie was grinning foolishly at her phone again.
Emily took out her phone and took a picture of her. Queenie heard the sound and looked over. "What's wrong? You'd better put your phone on silent." They were doing their homework in a corner of the British Library's reading room. They had ruthlessly forgotten about it since the start of the holidays, but finally remembered it as summer vacation was coming to an end. It just so happened that Harry was going to help his family get discharged from the hospital today, so Queenie and Emily had arranged to come to the library together.
"Oh, I just wanted to show some silly girl what I look like."
Queenie leaned over to take a look. "Great shot, send it to me."
Emily seemed to have guessed what she was planning to do, and silently sent her the photos.
Sure enough, Queenie sent the photos to Harry again.
—"Struggling with assignments with Emily at the British Library: Why does assignment even exist?"
Is this the desire to share in a relationship? Emily thought blankly. Was her last relationship this clingy? No, she hadn't even officially started dating this Harry yet, had she? Was saving face really that important?
Emily turned her head to look in another direction. Well, face is indeed important. Otherwise, why would she have to meet Queenie in the reading room of the British Library if she could do her homework anywhere else?
Harry was walking with Mr. Weasley in the foyer on the eighth floor of the Ministry of Magic. Wizards kept emerging from the Floonet fireplaces on either side, carrying green flames. He even saw a few goblins.
He had heard that there were three thousand wizards in Britain, and he suspected that most of them were in the Ministry of Magic. However, he then thought that there were also many wizards in other countries, so they probably weren't all British.
Mr. Weasley led him into the crowd; the Ministry of Magic's elevators looked no different from those in the Muggle world.
Yeah, right! Elevators in the Muggle world don't move randomly in any direction!
Harry gripped the gate tightly, his initial tension eased by the chaotic shaking, but his relief was short-lived. A cold female voice announced that they had arrived at the Department of Mysteries, which was on the ninth basement level, while the tenth trial chamber he needed to reach was on the tenth. The elevator didn't go directly there, so he had to walk.
Surrounded by dark, cold walls, Harry felt as if he had entered a dungeon. This feeling reached its peak when he sat in the judge's chair. Minister Fudge in his top hat and the members of the Wizengamot in their crimson robes on the high platform made him look as if he were being judged by a ecclesiastical court.
I am not a heretic! I did nothing wrong!
Harry felt a surge of anger amidst his unease. Despite his usual maturity in handling hearings, he couldn't control his emotions when faced with this situation. He bitterly thought that the hearing proposed by the Ministry of Magic was a complete joke. Voldemort had already been resurrected, so why didn't they arrest him and the Death Eaters? Instead, they wasted their time trying to judge him, the one who had saved a Muggle.
Harry gave Fudge a cold look. Fudge was still reciting that long and ridiculous case information. Just as Harry was about to say something, Dumbledore's voice suddenly rang out.
Harry and everyone else present looked toward the source of the sound, and there appeared Dumbledore, whom they hadn't seen all summer, not even after he moved into the Order of the Phoenix headquarters.
He should have been angry, but when he saw the principal he trusted, he couldn't help but smile.
But Dumbledore didn't even glance at him.
However, Dumbledore, who had been extremely busy since Voldemort's resurrection, secured a hearing for him and even came to be his witness.
Harry told himself to calm down. He silently repeated Hermione's advice not to answer unnecessary questions, and then tried to give a look or expression that showed he was a vulnerable person—"You're still a student. Show your worry and fear. The Wizengamots won't be so heartless to a child," Hermione said.
However, Harry soon found it difficult. He was filled with anger towards the Ministry of Magic and joy at seeing Headmaster Dumbledore, and couldn't make any other expression. He could only lower his head slightly and let people think he was disheartened, leaving everything to Dumbledore.
As noon approached, Queenie and Emily finished their homework for their respective courses and planned to go to the cafeteria in the common area to grab a bite before returning to exchange assignments.
While waiting in line, Queenie received a text message from Harry.
"I couldn't agree more with you. I also can't understand why homework exists in the world; it's a nightmare."
Queenie laughed out loud. It seemed that the homework assigned by Harry's former teacher really gave him a headache. Otherwise, why would he still describe it as a nightmare after several years? She thought Harry would give her a brief lecture in the tone of someone who had been through it all.
"Are you done with your work?"
"Hmm, are you still at the British Library? I'd like to come find you."
"Yes, we're in the library's cafeteria."
“Look who this is!” Emily suddenly became sarcastic. “Ha, these days anyone can get into the library.”
Queenie looked up, and well, no wonder Emily was like that; standing in the next line were her ex-boyfriend and Freya.
Ugh, what a terrible encounter.
Queenie pouted and looked away, tugging at Emily's arm to signal her to pretend she hadn't seen anything. She then looked at the menu, thinking about what to order for Harry, guessing he hadn't eaten lunch either.
"Where are you sitting? I'm already here."
Queenie was surprised. So fast? Was he already at the library entrance when Harry asked her?
Harry, as if unable to wait for her reply, immediately called. Queenie answered and looked towards the door. There was no need for her to call; she had already seen Harry.
The other party quickly identified her, "Queenie!"
Great, now all four of them looked at Harry.
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